Believe
by BabyYoureMyOxygen
Summary: Max does not remember her past. She only remembers darkness. She only remembers the terrible tragedy that left her with her foster family, the Martinez's. But, she soon finds a valuable piece of information her mother left her, and now Max has to to determine exactly what it means. No wings. Original characters. Fax. Read and Review.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_The girl made her way through the parking lot, hand connected with her mother's on one side, and her father's on the other. She tilted her head upwards, looking towards the brilliant silver moon. It was dark that night, every ominous star hidden beneath a heavy cloud. Disappointed, the girl looked down, eyes falling upon the asphalt; her favorite thing to do was look for the many constellations that littered the black veil every night. _

"_Mommy?" the girl asked quietly, her voice drifting with the night breeze. _

"_Yes, love?" her mother answered, Australian accent thick._

"_Where are the stars?" the little girl asked, letting her tiny fingers slip from her father's warm grip to point to the sky. _

"_God's saving them for a rainy day," her mother answered, a sweet smile spreading over her shimmery red lips. _

_The girl smiled content with her mother's answer. She continued walking, allowing her fingers to slip from her mother's cool grasp as well. Though it was dark, the girl began to skip towards their red Dodge truck. She heard her parents laugh lightly behind her, carting the small bags of groceries with them. They had just enough ingredients now to make the red cherry chip cookies her mother had promised. _

_Suddenly, a loud _bang_ filled the silence, causing the girl to swing around in fright. She cried out when red liquid splattered the front of her pink dress. Her father fell to the black asphalt, clutching his chest tightly. Crimson blood leaked through his fingers, magnifying the puddle that emancipated around him._

"_Daddy!" the girl screamed, running towards her fallen father._

"_No, baby!"_

_Her mother had an pained look on her face as her gaze fell upon her still husband. Her long fingers quickly grabbed a hold of the girl's tiny hand. The girl fought against her, kicking, punching, screaming. She was determined to get to her father, her mother's grip tight. The girl looked up from where she had been thrown to watch her mother fall to the asphalt, a strange figure standing above her, his silhouette inscrutable in the dark. The young girl set herself upright, the raw scrapes in her hands and knees stinging. _

"_Mommy!" she cried, salty tears running down her cheeks. _

_The tears fell to the pavement, mixing with the blood from her parent's wounds. Footsteps echoed behind her, and the little girl looked through her blurring vision to see a man dressed in all black. His face was blurry, although she noticed he gave her a vague smile, his white lips in a tight line, before grasping her mother's arm harshly, bringing her close to his body. The girl covered her eyes, shielding her vision from her mother's unfortunate fate. _

"_No!" she screamed, voice hysterical. _

_The man paused, and turned on his heel to look at her. Her mother dropped limply to the ground, and the girl began to shiver out of fright, the fear deep in her eyes. She watched as the man made his way towards her, bending down to one knee. With a gloved hand, he reached towards the girl, pushing a dark curl behind her ear. The girl could vaguely hear sirens sounding, though her mind became clouded, watching the man's every move. _

"_Sorry, ducky," he whispered, his smile cruel. _

_His accent matched that of her mother's. The girl clenched her teeth as the man pushed his hand into his pocket, pulling out a black object. Her father had shown her his shotgun one time before he had gone hunting, though this gun was much smaller. The girl's eyes widened and she crawled backwards, rocks and dirt grinding into the cuts on her raw palms. A loud _bang_ filled her ears, and the black veil engulfed her. _


	2. Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

I shot up in my bed, memories of the horrid nightmare clouding my vision. I could still see the crimson blood, hear the screams that had haunted me for years. I felt a layer of cold sweat rest atop my pale skin, salty tears beckoning to escape my closed eyes. It felt as if I couldn't breathe; I was trapped, my legs twisted in the endless red sheets that had escaped the corners of my stiff mattress. I slowly opened my eyes to look at my shaking hands, heart pumping violently.

A tear fell, leaving a salty trail down my cheek, dropping to the red sheets.

_They fell to the pavement in red puddles, mixing with the blood from her parent's wounds._

I shook the image from my mind, wiping away any remaining tears. It's been four years since I've that nightmare, six years since I had lost the two most important people in my life. The dream always reminded me of the moment that had changed my life forever, shoving it into my face until I was unable push it away.

A sigh escaped my lips as I pulled my knees to my chest, rocking gently. Rocking had always been the only thing that was ever able to calm my shaking body, halt my violent tears. It was what my mother had done with me when I was a kid, and the motion still insured me that she had been real, and life was not all a dream. I rested my head atop my knees, knowing that, though it was early, I would no longer be able to fall back to sleep. The dark basement helped to cool my hot skin, as well as calm my bitter thoughts.

Finally, I rose from my bed and tapped the switch on the wall, causing white light to flood the room. I shook my head, clearing away the crude flashbacks that clouded my vision. Quickly, I made a grab for the clothes I had laid out on my desk the night before, and walked away from my room and the white light. The basement was unusually chilly this morning, the air seeming to crawl about my skin. I hurriedly made my way up the staircase, welcoming the warm air that followed. Suddenly, my foot got caught underneath the top step, and I hit the ground with a _thud, _landing awkwardly on the floor. Lately, my 'klutz' trait had been shining through more and more each day.

Standing, I shook my head so my hair would fall back into place, and made my way to the bathroom at the end of the house. It had always been a pain to have to use the bathroom when I lived in the basement, though I never complained, happy with my isolated room. Out of sight, out of mind. The door creaked lightly as I opened it and stepped inside. My foster parents, Valencia and Jeb Batchelder, left for work before I even woke to get ready for school. Jeb was a scientist, and worked in a small lab in the city; Valencia was a veterinarian, working at a small veterinary clinic downtown. Though, she was also a part-time social worker for adoption agencies. Effectively, this had led her to me. She had never found the need to adopt me, as she wanted me to carry on what my family had been when I became of age, saying the courts said that it was a perfectly legal. I was fortunate to have the things that I did, though sometimes it became lonely knowing that I was not blood related to my new family.

I sighed and looked at the mirror. The figure that stared back at me was not who I had been when I was nine, but the version of what I had become. Her dirty-blonde layers framed her tan face; her creamy skin held scars that no makeup could ever cover- some self inflicted, though most from horrid nightmares she was forced to live; chocolate brown eyes blinked back. In certain realization, I had carried every trait from either of my parents.

The girl's eyes averted from my own, causing me to turn away, unable to look at the mirror any longer. It hurt too much to realize that I was a part of my parents in any way. I was forced to be them, and live with it every day of my life.

Shaking the thoughts from my crowded mind, I slipped from my sweaty pajamas and stepped into a warm, inviting shower. The soothing water seemed to wash away my fears and nightmares. It was a quick shower, using my favorite cinnamon shampoo and body wash. When I finally stepped out into the steaming bathroom, I quickly dressed in the clothes I had grabbed: a plain T-shirt, and ripped blue jeans.

It took me no time to towel dry my hair and apply a light layer of mascara. By the time I had finished, I realized I still had fifteen minutes until I would have to leave for school, another dream that could easily become a living nightmare. When I opened the bathroom door to the quiet house, our Golden dog, Magnolia, welcomed me with a wagging tail. I rubbed behind her ears for a moment before making my way back down the stairs.

The light in my room was still on, reflecting the blue and white walls, littered with an array of posters. I quickly grabbed my messenger bag and chucks before shutting off the light and making my way back up the stairs.

I made my way to the coffee maker, throwing my bag and chucks onto the kitchen counter. My silver coffee mug had already been set out next to it, so I made my coffee quickly. When the hot steam hit my face, memories invaded my vision.

_Sirens sounded everywhere. Rain had begun to fall, washing everyone in a mist. The little girl couldn't move, her body racked with pain. She could feel the asphalt digging into her delicate skin through her now stiff pink dress. She did not know what the man in black had gone, nor where the sirens were coming from. Though, she did realize that she was being picked up and laid on a soft material. The mist from the rain seemed to wash the blood and sweat away, as well as her fears._

My hand became hot, and the next thing I knew, the coffee pot and mug were laying sideways atop the counter, my hand burning from the hot liquid. A sigh escaped my lips as I attempted to clean up the mess that had been made, checking to see if I had cracked the coffee pot. Not seeing any sign of breakage, I quickly poured the rest of the coffee back into my mug, and threw sugar and creamer into the black brew. Scrunching my nose in disgust at the PopTarts left out on the counter, I screwed the black lid on, and proceeded to sit at the table, setting my head in my hands. The dream was distracting me now more than it ever had, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to fully make it through the day.

I heard the scraping of a chair, causing me to nearly jump two feet into the air. Looking up, I noticed Valencia and Jeb's biological daughter, Ella, seat herself at the other end of the mahogany table. Being a bit shorter than the average teenager, she pulled her knees beneath her torso to raise her body a few inches, while picking delicately at a bagel with her French-manicured nails; her blonde and brunette curls were pinned back into a messy bun. I hadn't even noticed that she had come from her room. I looked down, staring at my own unpainted nails.

"Morning," I said quietly.

Though there was no one in the house, it felt slightly off to talk loudly when it was this quiet.

"Mornin'," she responded, stifling a yawn.

I laughed quietly to myself. However, before I could start up any sort of a conversation, my phone vibrated, and music sounded. I quickly dug in my pocket, pulling out my purple cell phone, knowing exactly who it was going to be.

"Hello?"

"What's up?" Nudge asked, nearly screaming into the other line.

Nudge was one of the first friends I had made when I had moved here a few years ago. She was so talkative and outgoing**,** sometimes I wondered if she forgot that it was seven in the morning. Usually, she wasn't much of a morning person, but lately, she had been over ecstatic about every little thing.

"Red Bull?" I questioned, already knowing she had stopped to buy one of her favorite energy drinks.

"You think you know me _so_ well," she mumbled.

I laughed, knowing I had made a correct assumption. "I'm out the door as we speak."

I could hear Nudge's red truck outside the garage, rumbling to get its rubber tires back out onto the road.

"Okay! Love you!" she yelled.

I laughed, "Love you, too," before stuffing my phone back into my pocket. I quickly grabbed my messenger bag and my coffee mug, and then proceeded to slide on my chucks- I would lace them in the car. "See ya, El."

She waved her hand and I made my way out the door and through my garage. Nudge was leaning out the truck window, waving for me to hurry. I laughed, stepping over the rocks carefully. The sun nearly blinded me, sending rays of white light into my vision.

"Hey, Ms. I'm-Just-So-Talkative-At-Seven-In-the-Morning," I said, climbing into the truck.

She looked at me and smiled as I threw my bag into the backseat. Her dark brown wavy curls flowed freely against her shoulders. Though no makeup lined her eyes, dark brown irises blinked back at me. I noticed she was wearing the new pink and white checkered over-shirt I had given her, accompanied by pale faded jeans.

"You know, you may call me that, but these days I just go by Ms. Talkative. Also, remember the Cedar Point trip? Well… I'm allowed to go! I'm just so excited! I got my mom to sign this morning-"

I placed my hand quickly over her mouth. "And, you wonder why I call you 'Nudge'."

"That, and I really dislike the name Monique. It just don't fit me."

She reached her hand into her pocket, pulling out a small permission slip, which her mother had signed at the bottom in her neat script, accompanied by a few twenty dollar bills.

"Awesome," I said, attempting to pull my hair out from beneath the seatbelt.

Monica stuffed it back into her pocket and proceeded to put the truck into reverse.

"Did you ask Martha about it yet?"

I hesitated a moment. "What CD do you have in?"

Truth was, I haven't even told Martha about the trip, yet. It wasn't as big of a deal to me as it was for the others. Even if I had wanted to go, I've learned to never get my hopes up, in fear that I would soon enough have to be pulled away from everything again. Though, Valencia would least likely let me go as Ella would be accompanied by Brad Pitt to Prom. Being a foster child hadn't allowed me to do much with my life, but it had never truly bothered me in the past.

"Umm… I think it's Metro Station. Though, Mom might have switched it to Def Leppard last night when she borrowed the truck."

I felt my shoulders pull into a drug and gently touched the CD button. Def Leppard's _Animal_ began to pour from the truck's rattling speakers.

"I love this song." A smirk touched my lips.

Nudge laughed along, and began to dance in her seat. She tapped the gas, proceeding to drive in the school's direction. The high school was only five minutes from where I lived in the outskirts of town, though the bus ride was tremendously too long, so Nudge always came by to pick me up.

I leaned back in my seat, listening contently to the sweet music evading my ears. I could see every note being played on the guitar, hear the singer's voice become high and low with every different pitch. The music flowed through my every vein, touching every nerve.

"What?" Nudge questioned, following the sudden silence.

"Nothing," I laughed. "I just like enjoying music without a bunch of interruptions."

"Hey! Be nice!" Nudge joked.

She chuckled, pulling the truck easily into her usual parking space in the school's tiny student parking lot. I grasped my bag and coffee mug in each hand before hopping from the truck's cab, slamming the door behind me. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I pulled my hood to cover my hair, casting a shadow across my high cheekbones. I made my way around to meet Nudge at the shoulder of the truck, before following her towards the school entrance.

I glanced around, eyes catching the people I saw everyday: the jocks playing football, the nerds finishing extra assignments, the scrubs sitting on a bench, the punks leaning silently against a brick wall, most with one ear bud placed in his or her ears, attempting to drown out the monotony of high school. Stereotyping was something everyone thought of, and most followed. I, on the other hand, simply stay to myself, unless spoken too. I knew I wasn't remotely close to being similar to anyone at this school. Less drama and gossip followed with their ignorance.

The glass doors that led into the school were already propped open by large garbage cans, allowing Nudge and I to stroll on through. We continued talk about anything that made way into our minds. Every now and then, I would pause to take a drink from my coffee, Nudge leading the way, turning left down the hallway, and then right. Not many students arrived as early as we did, but the school was never silent. Comforting sounds of students talking, papers shuffling, and even the music that emanated from the janitor's radios filled my ears.

As we made our way down the hall, I looked around the school at the many familiar faces. Some nodded, some waved, but most stared, eyes following as I made my way around another corner. Though, as I did every morning, I let Monica's drawl distract me, sipping my coffee and making way to my ugly orange locker. All lockers in the school were painted the spirit colors of orange and black**.** The school was pretty talented at getting both students and teachers into "spirit" for events such as Homecoming, Prom, and even important football games. Though, sometimes our pep rallies and spirit days got a bit strange.

"Be back in a flash," Monica smiled, before making way to her own locker farther down the hall.

I laughed quietly to myself before turning to my locker, allowing my nimble fingers to set in the three digits that made up my combination.

_22__-__33__-11_

Awaiting the _click_, my locker swung open, revealing many textbooks, papers, and a mirror clinging desperately to the inside of the metal door.

"Yo, Max!" I nearly jumped out of my converse, the voice being closer to my ear then I had anticipated.

I turned to see Jamie Carter, a close -but rather annoying friend- standing nearly two inches from my face. Nicholas Ride and James Griffiths stood behind him, both attempting to cover their laughter by coughing and wheezing violently into their palms.

"Holy hell, Zephyrs," I breathed, setting a hand over my racing heart. Jamie laughed, his light brown hair falling over his chestnut eyes. "Sorry, Max, didn't mean to scare ya. And don't call me that."

"Fine, _Gazzy_," I replied.

Gazzy was a science nerd, equipped with the science books and ability to make almost anything into an explosive; one of the reasons why we referred to him as 'The Gasman' instead of by his actual name. He was easy to talk to, and always wanted to have fun. Lately, it seemed a bit too much fun too much of the time, but we had all learned to deal with him.

"Yeah, laugh it up," I motioned to Nick and James, whom had quit attempting to cover their amusement, and were easily leaning against a pair of matching lockers. Bursts of laughter escaped James, causing many of our classmates to turn and look for the source of ruckus. I felt my eyes rolls, lips pulling back into a smirk as I turned back to my open locker to throw my Algebra II book to the bottom with a rather loud _clang_.

Nick was a unique friend, always bearing band tees and skinny or ripped jeans, a ring placed in his lip. He had been one of the first people to talk to me when I moved to New Mexico, and had been one of my best friends since. He was the quiet one of the group, always keeping to himself and his own problems, unless brought into the drama that our small group shared, though it was rare. For some reason, he preferred the name 'Fang', declaring that it added to his "dark exterior".

James was the 'joker prototype' of the group. He had moved to New Mexico from California a few years ago, though his look had not been left behind. With blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and a dark tan, he had a go-with-the-flow persona. Nudge had introduced me to him, and we soon became close friends. He was easy to get along with, and always was by your side when needed. He had a good humor, although sometimes it could be a bit… crude for little children's ears. Following suit with the fellow members of our small group, James preferred to be known as 'Iggy', going as far to tell the teachers to refer to him with that name.

"What up, guys?" Nudge questioned, making her way back to where the three of us stood.

She leaned against Iggy carelessly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, allowing his medium-length hair to fall into her face. Fang and Gazzy stood, amusement erased. I felt my eyes roll, looking back in Nudge's direction, who had a smile painted across her lips. She and Iggy had been dating for a short time period before I had come to this school. We all thought they were perfect for one other. Gazzy and Fang always teased at how they would be voted cutest couple of the year for the school's Mock Awards.

"Oh, nothing at all," Fang answered, snapping me from my revere.

I shook my light hair as Nudge raised an eyebrow.

"Mhmm…," she stated, a defiant smile tugging at her lips.

"Nothing at all." Fang returned her smile, flicking his black bangs aside.

I shook my head and leaned against my locker, observing the people that I had known as my friends for the past eight months.

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**I do realize that a few of these characters may be, well, out of character, but it happens. That would be why this website is called FanFiction, my friends.**

**10 reviews for Chapter 2 to be up by next Tuesday.**

**-Taylor Tonks**


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